


Style of Expression

by Stariceling



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of the Forever A to Z movie: Shoutarou agrees, the NEVER jacket doesn’t suit Philip at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style of Expression

**Author's Note:**

> Because I keep thinking about Philip wearing the NEVER jacket. And the fact that they switched his entire wardrobe. Why would...? Why did they have shoes in his size? Just... why?

Philip leans into Shoutarou once they’ve found a private place to drop the transformation. Shoutarou came to save him, and together they’ve saved the city, but for this moment the safest place on Earth is at his partner’s back.

Then Shoutarou turns around and puts a hand on his shoulder, and on second thought this position is even better. Shoutarou is smiling at him, even with his brows drawn down with worry, so how can Philip help but smile back?

“I don’t think this really suits you,” Shoutarou comments, thumb rubbing Philip’s shoulder through the borrowed jacket.

Philip can only be reminded of another moment with Shoutarou’s hand on his shoulder. It was the first time Shoutarou took him out after Begin’s Night, when exchanging touches with his partner was still nervous and new. Shoutarou’s hand braced on his shoulder as he stood back just enough to study Philip. ‘Is this what you want? It looks good on you.’ Even while Philip was still adjusting to wearing something so unlike what others had always given him, Shoutarou looked right past the clothes to his face and judged them acceptable because he liked them. Philip likes soft cloth close on his skin, the flare of his parka, and _color_ , not anything like what he’s wearing now.

“Of course it doesn’t.” Philip starts to shrug it off and he’s glad to let Shoutarou help by tugging the jacket down his arms until it slips to the ground. “It’s not something I chose, after all.”

Although there is something to be said for having no sleeves. When Shoutarou’s hand finds his arm again his palm is warm on Philip’s skin.

“Give me your hand for a minute, Shoutarou.” Philip catches both of Shoutarou’s hands almost before he gets a noise of assent and puts them to his waist, wrapping Shoutarou’s hands around himself.

There is another memory distorted by the groggy edge of waking. Cold, clammy hands yanking a belt that isn’t his in place and gripping him around the waist. ‘That’s better. Now you look like one of us.’

Shoutarou’s hands are warm on him, and he leans subtly into their support. He would like to lean right into Shoutarou, but he catches the nervous swallow and the way Shoutarou is looking him over, so protective the lingering hints of worry still line his face.

“Philip. . .”

“You know, if you want me to change out of everything that isn’t mine, we should go somewhere more private.”

“Huh?” Shoutarou looks him up and down. It’s been a long day. Philip doesn’t blame him taking a moment to realize that everything’s been replaced. “Philip, what did those NEVER bastards do to you?”

“Nothing permanent.” It seems like a tidy enough answer as he turns towards home, arm linking incidentally through Shoutarou’s to bring him along.

“Hey, Philip! What did they do?”

It’s not something he can put in words. It’s something already healing, a sore place that’s soothed by being with Shoutarou. Shoutarou knows so much of him and still never sees him as less than human.

Shoutarou looks right at him and accepts him. Shoutarou is his partner. Philip needs to find the words to apologize for pushing him away.

When he turns to go downstairs and change for the fireworks, Shoutarou uses his name to stop him one more time.

“Are you okay?”

“Because of you, Shoutarou,” is the clearest answer he can give. He doesn’t turn enough to face his partner head-on. He wants to know where Shoutarou is hurt because of him, and how to fix it. He wants look right at Shoutarou and have it be clear he accepts the whole of his half-boiled partner. “I’ll tell you the rest later.”

Philip rids his body of dirt and sweat and borrowed clothes until he feels like himself again. Sometimes he wishes he could pull his true self to the surface so easily. He could cut through all the words stuck stubbornly in his head and tell Shoutarou ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m sorry.’


End file.
